


Pulling You into Focus

by sass_bot



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sass_bot/pseuds/sass_bot
Summary: After Morgan gets a late-night text from her Commanding Agent, Nayzak is disappointed to find out that Morgan can't spend the night. Morgan, however, leaves her with a parting gift before she goes.
Relationships: Female Detective/Morgan (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Pulling You into Focus

It’s the scent—sandalwood and the remnants of yesterday’s perfume—that keeps Nayzak warmer than any blanket. It’s the tenderness of the arms, casually yet firmly draped over her body, that block out everything else—every nagging thought, every horrible memory—stopping the nightmares at the gates, before they could even hope to look upon her.

It’s the sound of Morgan’s breath, rhythm skipping unevenly, that startles Nayzak into awareness.

When she opens her eyes, clear grey eyes stare back. The arm wrapped over her body slides down—a hand cupping Nayzak’s face, fingers pushing her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not sleeping?” Nayzak croaks; her voice sounds like it’d been caught under the wheels of a steamroller.

Morgan’s lips tilt up in an amused smile, and Nayzak, with one foot still running laps in her dreams, has barely enough mental capacity to handle the beauty in so simple a gesture. A pleasant shudder travels through her chest. When those same lips lean forward to place a kiss on her freckled nose, Nayzak feels a glow tickle her cheeks.

“My phone vibrated,” Morgan mumbles before placing another kiss at the corner of Nayzak’s lips. “I should check it.” She places the third kiss upon her lips—chaste and light as a feather. “I’ll be quick; I promise.” And then she withdraws, gracefully slipping out of the bed.

The cold rushes in to take Morgan’s place as soon as she leaves. The chill burns Nayzak’s nostrils and she buries them in the pillow, still warm, still smelling like her. She pulls the blanket over her shoulders, hoping the comforter could slice even an inch off the loneliness that coils around her heart as soon it senses Morgan’s absence.

It’s less than a minute of loneliness, but that doesn’t mean her relief is any less profound when the bed sinks again, and Morgan is lying beside her again. Her face is illuminated by her phone, fingers rapidly moving across the screen.

Nayzak slides her hands around Morgan’s arm and drowsily pushes her cheek into her shoulder. “What is it?”

Morgan finishes typing and sets her phone on the bedside table; her shoulders sink into the bed. “It was Ava. I need to get back to the warehouse.” Her words sound forced as they come out—halfhearted—like they’d like nothing more than to bury themselves into the back of her throat. The tightness in her brow appears when she turns her head to face Nayzak. “Come with me. You can sleep in your room there.”

Nayzak scoots up so her face is level with Morgan’s and leans in for an apologetic kiss. “I have work tomorrow morning.” She ventures for another kiss, Morgan meeting her halfway, burying her fingers in the back of her rosy curls and pushing their faces together.

A thrill flutters through Nayzak’s body and she wraps one arm around Morgan’s neck, playing with the dark hair at the nape of her neck, and slides the other underneath her to stroke the skin of her back. Morgan’s tongue playfully flicks at her lips and she eagerly lets it in.

With their mouths still connected, Morgan shifts their positions until Nayzak is on her back, Morgan straddling her, dragging her hands down the sides Nayzak’s body—and she can feel the fire even through the fabric of her nightgown.

And then they part.

In what little light filters in through the window, Morgan is gorgeous. She sits on Nayzak’s lap in nothing but her underwear, every bit of her skin glowing in the dim unnatural light, her freckles drawing constellations across her deep bronze skin. Nayzak feels her breath get caught in her throat as she stares up at her in disbelief. A content smile reserved only for her is painted on Morgan’s face as her hands gently push Nayzak’s skirt up, absentmindedly stroking her thighs.

It takes her mind longer than usual to formulate coherent thought, and thankfully, it slips and falls on its face right into some common sense.

“Don’t you have to go to the warehouse?”

Morgan leans down again, placing a kiss against her jaw. “I have time.” She moves upwards to place another kiss against her neck, just below her ear. “Just want something to think about while I’m dealing with all that boring shit.” One of her hands moves up to cup Nayzak’s breast through her clothes. She continues to kiss and nibble at the spot below her ear. “If you’re up for it, that is.”

A pleasant shiver, originating where Morgan’s mouth is focused, moves through Nayzak’s body. She couldn’t suppress the moan it elicits if she tried—and well, she fears Morgan would take offense to her trying to be quiet at this point. “I am,” she sighs. “Completely…”

Morgan says nothing in reply. Using her knee, she pushes Nayzak’s legs apart, keeps her thigh between them to keep them from closing again. She continues working her way down Nayzak’s neck. The hand squeezing her breast unties the front of her nightgown, slipping it down off her shoulders to allow Morgan access to the sharp collarbone hidden beneath it.

Nayzak shuts her eyes, her entire body sighing, sinking into the mattress at Morgan’s ministrations. She only shifts her torso slightly to allow Morgan to slip the nightgown down her body, exposing her pale breasts to the cold bedroom air.

Morgan takes one of Nayzak’s breasts into her mouth, tenderly toys with the other nipple with her hand, humming contently as though she were playing a game. Each of Morgan’s movements is patient and reverent—an artist painstakingly dragging their brush across the canvas, leaving no detail out. Every kiss pressed against Nayzak’s skin is pure light, blooming like fireworks. Her fingers, featherlike and soft, tease and stroke wherever her mouth cannot, culminating in a tangled ball of yarn that spins and spins at the pit of Nayzak’s stomach.

She presses herself against Morgan’s leg, squeezing her thighs for some relief; her fingers paw desperately at Morgan’s back. The vampire seems unaffected by this, content to take her time moving her way down Nayzak’s torso, plucking at her like a harp of sighs.

She presses a firm kiss against Nayzak’s stomach, just above her belly button, before leaning up to look at Nayzak’s flushed face, allowing her a glimpse into those stormy grey eyes. Morgan’s hands run down Nayzak’s sides once more as she sits up to observe her handiwork—pink and violet marks peppered all across Nayzak’s skin between her freckles, the nightgown bunched up around Nayzak’s hips.

A smirk spreads across Morgan’s face. “Y’know, I think we finally found a way to make those matronly nightgowns look sexy.”

Nayzak puffs up her cheeks in offense, pouting at her girlfriend—an act which would have been far more convincing were she not still grinding against her thigh. “If I weren’t so horny, I’d throw a pillow at you.”

Morgan lets a puff of air through her nostrils. “I’d like to see you try, cupcake.” She captures the pout in her own lips, and Nayzak moans in surprise before succumbing completely—Morgan dragging her tongue through her mouth like she’s afraid to forget how it feels, sucking Nayzak in so fully into her that she can no longer tell where she ends and where Morgan begins. Nayzak feels her eyes sting at the intensity of emotion that surges through her—at just how much she wants to live in this moment, safe in these arms, wrapped in this scent. And whenever she recalls just how much she loves this woman, the revelation hits her with the force of a tsunami.

Pulling apart again feels like tearing a piece of her own heart off. She whines in protest and Morgan places a peck against her cheek in apology. She presses her hands against Nayzak’s thigh, moving them until one sits at each knee. She pushes Nayzak’s legs open and settles between them.

Nayzak trembles in anticipation at the loss of Morgan’s thigh. She swallows the lump in her throat as she feels Morgan slide her panties down her legs. Nayzak doesn’t even have time to feel the loss before the fabric is replaced with Morgan’s tongue, slowly, agonizingly parting her folds, ending its ascent by swirling around her clit.

A whimper leaps out of Nayzak’s lips, her heart tying itself in knots at the sensation. She reaches blindly down, grabbing at the sheets below for something to help keep her balance. Morgan’s hand slips into her own, fingers wrapping tightly around hers, like an anchor. Nayzak’s other hand travels between her legs to massage Morgan’s head, reveling in the silkiness of the dark hair between her fingers.

Each languid motion of Morgan’s tongue builds on the tangled ball of yarn in Nayzak’s stomach until she’s throbbing in Morgan’s mouth—desire knocking erratically on the walls like a starving prisoner. Where once she could hear the sound of Morgan breathing, all she can hear is her own voice as her moans get louder and her breath grows uneven and heavy.

“ _Fuck…_ ” she groans.

The exclamation causes Morgan to stop and look up at her girlfriend, her damp mouth set in a sly smile. “Oh, using naughty words I see.”

Nayzak barely even registers the remark, so preoccupied with the fact that Morgan has _stopped_ when she is already _so close._

“Morgan, _please_ ,” she complains.

A chuckle slips through Morgan’s lips. “’Please’ what?” She lowers her head to kiss and nibble at Nayzak’s inner thigh.

“ _Morgan…_ ”

“’Morgan´ what?” she mumbles between kisses.

Nayzak lets out a frustrated huff, realizing that she’s fighting a losing battle. “Morgan, _please_ let me come.”

Another laugh, another mark on her inner thighs, and Morgan mumbles, “Fine. But swear some more for me. It’s unbelievably sexy.”

Unaccustomed to being seen as “sexy” in any capacity—even when she’s half naked with her girlfriend’s face between her legs—Nayzak finds her cheeks growing red at the compliment. She nods, although she’s certain Morgan doesn’t see it.

And none of it matters because Morgan is _exactly_ where Nayzak needs her to be, lapping at her wetness and gently but firmly teasing her clit. Nayzak presses her hips into Morgan’s mouth, her mounting climax picking up exactly where it left off, pulling her higher and higher off the ground, until she’s squeezing Morgan’s hand to keep herself from floating away, completely untethered.

Nayzak’s moans rise in pitch as she begins to lose feeling in her limbs completely. “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Morgan…_ ” she whines.

Morgan hums happily into her clit, the vibrations traveling up her spine until it hits her all at once, and were it not for her anchor, she would have been lost completely to the waves that crash over her. And Morgan is there, guiding her through, coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from her. Because Morgan is there, waiting for her on the ground, she allows herself to fall, to burst through every cloud, only to land safely in her arms.

When the fog clears, Morgan is still there.

She rises from between Nayzak’s legs, wiping the moisture off her chin with her fingers and licking it off in an exaggerated sensual motion. She climbs up Nayzak’s body and presses a kiss to her lips—this one is slow, gentle, like the closing notes of a lullaby.

“Think I’ll be tasting that all day,” she murmurs, kissing her again.

Nayzak is still fighting against her racing heart, catching her breath. She raises her hand to push Morgan’s bangs out of her eyes. “I’ll miss you when you go.”

The expression on Morgan’s face softens and she moves her lips up to Nayzak’s forehead.

“I’ll be back before you know it, cupcake.”

“I know. I’ll miss you anyway.”

Morgan presses her cheek against Nayzak’s, burying her face in her hair. “I know. I’ll miss you, too.”

And although Nayzak knows it has to end, she gives herself to this last embrace, to the scent of sandalwood and old perfume that keeps her warm—to the arms that press tightly against her—to the sound of Morgan breathing steadily in her ear. And she foolishly hopes against hope that they could stay like this forever.


End file.
